


Failing to vampire

by embeer2004



Series: A vampire, his blood-brother and his witcher [7]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Love, Magical Artifacts, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 14:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Even a higher vampire can be affected by ancient elven artefacts, or alternatively: Regis touches something he shouldn’t and forgets how to vampire.





	Failing to vampire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softestpunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Long Winter's Nap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935534) by [softestpunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/softestpunk). 



> This is a bit of silliness for you, softestpunk, but one I wanted to share nevertheless. While writing this the plot bat hijacked the keyboard though, so the story went a bit different than I'd originally imagined. Hope you like it! ,')

_Geralt_  
  
“Regis!” Geralt ran towards where his friend had been standing only a moment before, barely managing to avoid touching the pink crystal on the floor by sharply twisting to the right, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process as he tried to avoid stepping in the blue-grey puddle on the floor.  
  
Thin tendrils rose up from the oddly moving puddle, hesitantly reaching out towards one of his hands.  
  
“Regis?” The colours looked familiar, but he’d never seen his friend in such a _fluid_ shape – usually the vampire was lightning quick when he puffed up as wisp of smoke, but right now… the _wrongness_ of his shape bothered him. Geralt knelt on the floor and hesitantly touched one of the searching tendrils. He’d expected to pass right through it, but the structure felt more sturdy than he’d expected.  
  
The blue-grey puddle that was Regis circled one tentative tendril around his wrist and carefully pulled, trying to crawl up his arm. When it had reached the thin line of warm flesh between Geralt’s glove and his armour it changed direction and started tugging on his glove.  
  
“Regis, are you all right? What happened?” The Regis-puddle started becoming agitated, the tugging of the tendril more desperate, so Geralt made a quick decision and pulled both of his gloves off himself.  
  
Immediately three more tendrils reached up towards him to lightly settle around his wrists. The cool coils trembled slightly and for a moment Geralt was worried that his friend was starting to suffer any ill effects from his sudden change, before realising that the blue and grey patterns marking Regis’ shape were swirling madly in circles up and down his form. Geralt sat back on his haunches, a bit confused. An idea resonated in his mind that Regis’ swirling colours indicated excitement, but where he got that idea from he couldn't actually pinpoint.    
  
Though this _did_ seem to be Regis. Geralt gently rubbed one of the tendrils around one of his wrists and was surprised at the feel, like a trickle of water or a really dense fog, and when he removed his hand from its surface he nearly expected water to be clinging to his fingers. “Huh. Not smoke at all.”  
  
The swirling colours of the Regis-puddle quieted down and the tendrils slowly slipped from his wrists. Regis shuddered once before stilling. He could be imagining things, but Geralt got the impression that Regis was very pleased about something.  
  
“Regis? Can you change back? I’m starting to worry here, old friend.” He looked at the pink crystal, his lips thinning with suspicion. The crystal likely _was_ the reason Regis had turned into this puddle. He closed his eyes, glad that Regis was only turned into an alternate shape. He was alive, not molten into a stone pillar. As long as there was life, there was a good chance of reversing this situation.  
  
Geralt’s hand hovered over the coloured gem, wondering at the exact purpose of the crystal. _How_ had it achieved to turn a vampire to its fundamental shape? An inane part of his mind wondered if its colour had any relevance to its function but he shook the thought away. He’d be sure to show it to Yennefer though.  
  
All of a sudden a thin tendril rose up from the puddle and flicked the pink crystal, propelling it well beyond Geralt’s reach.  
  
“I wasn’t going to touch it, Regis,” Geralt huffed. “That’s the item that did this to you? Just… wave a tendril up and down if it was.” He moved his hand up and down as though he expected the foggy puddle to be able to follow his example.  
  
His friend did hear him though, and clearly understood him, for – while obviously huffing in displeasure, with a new tenseness radiating from his form – he did sluggishly nod with one of his tendrils.  
  
He hadn’t expected that. Regis’ awareness seemed to be a good thing though.   
  
The Regis-puddle bubbled lightly before slithering a bit closer, stopping until it was nearly touching his knees.  
  
Geralt narrowed his gaze at him, feeling worry gnawing in his belly. “And you just _had_ to touch it a second time?” What if it had caused any further damage?  
  
Regis’ form deflated and the bubbling and swirling of his colours stopped.    
  
Geralt felt like an ass for telling his friend off while he’d only been trying to protect him. After all, the vampire’s physical shape had been altered into a more primal form. And while still sentient, who could say how much of his sapience Regis had actually retained? There was a valid possibility that Regis’ mind had been reverted to a more primal state as well and what he remembered from Regis’ stories was that a primal vampire was one led by their intense emotions. Emotions and instinct.  
  
“Hey…” Geralt shifted so he could sit down more comfortably next to Regis and offered his hand to the misty puddle. “I’m sorry… I’m just worried, Regis.” If that crystal had been able to do this to a higher vampire, what would it be able to do to a mere witcher? Was it even still active or had the crystal lost its power upon releasing its magic?  
  
Regis wearily slithered closer and when he was close enough a bluish tendril materialised, gently caressing the inside of Geralt’s wrist. An apology.  
  
Geralt smiled wryly. “I want Yen to have a look at you. Perhaps the effects are temporary and this’ll just blow over in a while, but we don’t know what it was. It could… it could-” it could also _not_ be temporary and perhaps a solution was present, but what if it was not? And what if there was a solution but there were long-term ill effects?  
  
He was drawn from his thoughts by a slight pressure around his wrist. Regis… always looking out for him… “We’ll figure this out, Regis. One way or another.” He lightly patted the tendril holding on to him.  
  
He looked around at the expansive elven library they were in and silently cursed himself for wanting to show this collection to Regis. Yes, there were thousands of books here and he’d been excited to show them to Regis, but he should have been more wary. Both of them should have been more wary. Elves… especially Divethaf’s subjects, had been a secretive lot, and those that had survived had become vengeful. He should have remembered to treat anything they found as a potential trap. It turned out even a higher vampire was susceptible to certain types of magic. He would not forget this…  
  
Geralt was again pulled from his morose thoughts when he felt his hand being nudged. He smiled seeing Regis’ blue-grey form swirling between his fingers, slowly trickling forward.  
  
“Come on, Regis, let’s return home. I’m sure Yen can help us.” He carefully stood up, taking care not to step on his friend. Regis was still clinging to his hand, having trouble holding on and Geralt wondered whether he would be able to carry the vampire in his current state. Feeling Regis _dribble_ on the floor however promptly made it apparent that Regis couldn’t grasp onto him tightly enough, certainly not for the length of time required to return home, and neither was he himself capable of maintaining hold of a not-quite-liquid vampire.  
  
He grunted and crouched down, not wishing to have (and he shuddered to think of it in this way) _bits_ of his friend splashing to the floor. Regis refused to give up his hold completely though, and the vampire was stubbornly clinging to one of his fingers. Geralt touched his hand to the floor, palm up, making it easier for Regis to keep in contact.  
  
“What am I supposed to do with you now?” He muttered fondly, pondering the situation. If he was careful he would manage to put the crystal in his pouch of dimeritium dust and place it further out of harm’s way – the crystal was just small enough to fit inside the silver casket he carried – but how was he going to take Regis back with him?  
  
His hand started vibrating and he looked down at Regis; he could swear the vampire was humming. He seemed distracted though, blue-grey colours lazily swirling over his fingers. Geralt wriggled them. “Any ideas on how to bring you back with me?”  
  
Regis quaked and his friend seemed to muster all his strength into becoming more solid, but the vampire failed to materialise and instead flowed sluggishly around his feet. Then he tried to wriggle towards the exit and Geralt could just _sense_ the incredible amount of effort his friend was exerting, so much effort, for so little progress…  
  
“Stop Regis! There must be a better way.” He examined their surroundings for anything useful and immediately dismissed the thought; anything to be found here in this elven domain could not be trusted. Geralt mentally went over the items in his saddlebags. He wouldn’t even consider the empty potion vials; his friend may be in a more or less fluid state right now, but he refused to aliquot him into several flasks. He would not risk hurting his friend in such a manner, no matter that his friend had survived decapitation and staking in his youth.  
  
He did have a large pail of butter though; if he cleaned that one out Regis _could_ fit in there. Geralt bit his lip, uncertain how his idea was going to be received but not seeing another solution. “Uhm, Regis? I think I may have a way of getting you home…”  
  
~*~  
   
_Dettlaff_  
   
He narrowed his gaze at the violet-eyed sorceress, his hackles raised as one of the katakan pups was cowering behind him, hiding its face against his leg.  
  
“Yennefer,” he growled, trying to stay polite even though she had scared a member of his pack.  
  
“Dettlaff.” The sorceress cocked her head and knelt down, making herself smaller. “Hello there,” she crooned to the young katakan, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s all right…”  
  
Dettlaff looked down at the pup and rubbed its ear. “Meet Geralt’s mate, pup. This is Yennefer, she’s safe.” He knelt down and withdrew the pup from behind him, encouraging it to reach out to the human.  
  
The pup trilled up at him, a bit uncertain, but one look at him seemed to strengthen its courage and the youngster puffed up its chest and walked over to the sorceress, making an effort to walk only on its hind legs.  
  
Yennefer stayed still, but a soft smile appeared on her face when the pup butted its head to her hand, allowing her to pet it – which she did, with a few gentle strokes soothing the fear and stress she’d inadvertently caused. “There we go… ” She looked up, her eyes searching. “What have you sensed through your bond with Regis these last three days, Dettlaff? – First of all, he’s _fine_ ,” she added belatedly, “he’s just a bit… _different_.”  
  
Dettlaff stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. Three days… that was when he’d started receiving a nearly constant barrage of euphoric feelings from Regis. When the intense sensations hadn’t disappeared after several hours he’d tentatively returned the feelings of affection, reaching out for his friend’s mind and letting only a hint of **_concern_** slip through their bond.  
  
Regis’ mind had been distracted and it seemed difficult for the older vampire to focus on him, but he _had_ responded with feelings of **_love_** and **_happiness_** and ** _safe_** and ** _giddiness_**. He’d felt a bit _off_ to Dettlaff, as if he was enjoying a blood-high, but… different, more _intense_. He didn’t understand it, but as Regis wasn’t feeling distressed he decided to give him some more time to return back to normal before going in search of him.  
  
“He’s fine!” Yennefer repeated and it was then he realised he’d been growling steadily at her.  
  
He calmed himself. “What happened? He’s… _different_?” He did enjoy the experience of sensing his brother being happy, but that was not _Regis_ , not for such a prolonged state. And now here was Yennefer, telling him something had happened to change his emotional state. He shouldn’t have waited! He reached for their bond and lightly tugged on it, but there was only a giddy, happy feeling in reply.  
  
Yennefer slowly stood up. “Let me explain in brief and in simple terms: Regis touched an elven love crystal and is now smitten by his feelings for Geralt.”  
  
Dettlaff felt his eyebrows rising. Love crystal? Smitten by feelings for – _Geralt_ – of all creatures? One he considered pack, his own… He shuddered thinking of the perversion of his brother’s feelings…  
  
Seeing his horrified look, Yennefer pinched the bridge of her nose and heaved a sigh, muttering something too soft for him to make out. “There’s no need to worry about Geralt’s virtue, or Regis’ proclivities. The intention of the crystal was to amplify all feelings of love and to make the recipient of the magic lose themselves completely to these feelings. Supposedly a diversion tactic if I can trust the historical references. What it comes down to is that Regis’ love for Geralt has amplified to such an extent that he, and I’m quoting Geralt here, _‘has forgotten how to vampire’.”_  
  
Dettlaff blinked. What did that mean exactly?  
  
“From what I’ve learned the crystal’s magic is nullified the moment someone remembers their physical form and that there’s something out there besides a turmoil of emotions. Ever since touching the crystal Regis has been reverted to his mist-like shape and we’ve tried to remind him he’s got a physical form, but our friend is completely besotted and has a nearly non-existent attention span for all else.” Yennefer sighed. “We hope that you can nudge him back into a physical shape again and remind him who he is. Your bond with him should be of aid here. Will you come?”  
  
**_Surprise. Uncertainty._** It was a lot to take in, but in the end there was only one answer possible. “Of course. Just a moment…” Dettlaff crouched down and held out his arms to the katakan pup. “Come, we’ll inform Siarra.” He went inside with the pup and made sure the alp knew that he was going to be away for some time before returning outside to Yennefer; ready to be taken away from home by capricious means.  
  
The sorceress looked at him intently. “You realise how we’re going to travel, correct?”  
  
He nodded, balling his hands into fists.  
  
Yennefer muttered some words in Aen Seidhe and all of a sudden an orange swirling disc appeared in front of her.  
  
**_Fear._** Dettlaff breathed deeply. He would never get used to magic.  
  
Yennefer smiled gently at him and held out her hand. “You go first, I’ll follow right after.”  
  
Dettlaff came closer to the portal but he had no wish to examine it. Better to get this done with as quickly as possible. Closing his eyes, he stepped through.  
  
~*~  
  
When he opened his eyes again he was standing on the stone steps leading up to Corvo Bianco’s main estate. Yennefer joined him a few seconds later and with a small _woosh_ the portal closed behind them.  
  
It was late in the afternoon and there were still workers about, taking care of the tasks involved with life at a vineyard, but besides a quick startled look in their direction they returned to their tasks upon seeing their lady. No doubt after all these years they’d grown used to the various oddities of Corvo Bianco’s witcher and sorceress.  
  
**_Love_** _. **Giddiness**. **Utter adoration**._  
  
Dettlaff turned back to face Yennefer. This time Regis’ emotions had been directed straight towards him; his brother had sensed his presence. “He’s excited,” he informed her uneasily, “he knows I’m here.”  
  
The sorceress patted his arm. “So I, too, sense. I cannot imagine what it must be like for you, but it’s good, him sensing your presence. Come now…” She led him up to the stairs and through the main door. Dettlaff could make out the figure of Barnabas-Basil in the far corner, but Yennefer dragged him into her and Geralt’s bedroom. “We’ve asked Barnabas-Basil and Marlene to discourage any unwanted guests while we deal with an important matter. They’ve been of immense aid these last few days.”  
   
“And we trust them. They’ve seen me arrive with him and tried to help,” Geralt’s tired voice spoke up. The witcher was sitting at the desk, cradling a basin in front of him containing a bubbling, blue-grey mist with a very familiar smell. Dettlaff stood frozen for a moment. His _blood-brother_ was _excitedly_ – _bubbling –_ in a _washing_ _basin_ of all things. Luckily Regis didn’t seem to be in any distress at all and was pushing his form up against the witcher’s fingers like a cat demanding to be petted.  
  
The witcher gently nudged the tendrils clinging to him, moving his fingers up and down. “Hey Regis, Dettlaff’s here…” Geralt spoke softly, looking up at them; a weary smile on his face. “I’m glad you could come.”   
  
**_Love. Fondness. Adoration. Delight. Affection._**  
  
“You look tired,” Dettlaff cocked his head at the man. **_Safe. Love. Calm._** He sent back to Regis, his mind already reaching out to his brother’s.  
  
Geralt smiled wryly, nodding his head at the basin. “He grows distressed when I’m not close by. Especially after our failed attempt yesterday to return him to his usual self.”  
  
Dettlaff frowned. So that was what the short burst of **_panic_** had been about. He’d gotten edgy feeling Regis’ distress, but when the euphoric feelings had started gushing over their bond again he was sure he must have been mistaken.  
  
The witcher stroked a finger over a blue-grey tendril. “He’s been extremely wanting of reassurance and comfort ever since. As if I’d ever abandon him to his fate…” Golden eyes met his, imploring him to make this all better. “We hope that you can help?”  
  
Dettlaff sat down on the edge of the desk and offered his hand to his brother. It seemed like Regis’ attention was divided between himself and Geralt, reaching out towards them and trying to drag them both closer to his basin. “Silly old vampire,” Dettlaff grumbled. “You’re old and wise enough to know not to touch ancient artefacts.”  
  
The blue-grey puddle shuddered and for a fleeting moment Dettlaff could feel **_shame_ **through their bond. It disappeared quickly though, leaving only feelings of **_love, fondness,_** and **_adoration_**. That’s what Yennefer must have meant earlier. His brother was in there, he just needed to be nudged out of his mind and back into his physical shape to return to his usual self. He knew what he needed to do.  
  
“I can sense what must be done, but Regis is currently too focused on you, Geralt. You and Yennefer must leave the room.”  
  
Geralt’s breath hitched and he looked worryingly at Regis, who’d started clinging to them both. “Regis? Come on, focus dear friend. You know Dettlaff. He’s going to make it all better now. You trust him, don’t you?”  
  
The blue-grey tendrils held on tighter and Dettlaff could see Geralt wince. Dettlaff recognised it as an act of desperation, everything was more difficult, things seemed to slip more easily from their grasp in this form. For Regis to be able to grip the witcher with such force…  
  
“Enough Regis, you’re hurting Geralt!” He scolded in a soft tone, his movements gentle as he slipped his other hand beneath Geralt’s and coaxed Regis into letting go of the man.  
  
A quick glimpse of **_sorrow_** and **_apology_** resonated through their bond and this moment of attention was enough for Dettlaff to release Regis’ hold on Geralt.  
  
“Go now,” he quietly murmured to the witcher, already reaching out further with his mind, seeking his blood-brother’s essence.  
  
“We’ll wait for you,” Geralt said softly, stepping away from the desk. “let us know if you need anything.”  
  
Dettlaff inclined his head, acknowledging Geralt’s words. There was a soft _click_ as the door closed behind him, but he paid his environments no further attention. Now it was just about him and Regis.  
  
The blue-grey form was getting agitated, but Dettlaff kept on sending calming thoughts to his brother. **_Love._** **_Safe. Calm._** He allowed Regis to keep a hold of his hands, realising how important this physical connection was to him. It would even help now actually.  
  
“Dear Regis,” he shifted his wrists so that his palms were directed upwards, enticing Regis to flow onto them, “you so much want to reach out to those you love, but you forget that there’s an easier way.” He wriggled his fingers, feeling a wisp of **_confusion_** through their bond. “You’re like me, Regis,” Dettlaff reminded him, “you’ve got a body, a physical shape. Several in fact.”  
  
A tendril materialised from the blue-grey mist and tapped his wrist once, twice… **_Curiosity._**  
  
Dettlaff smiled and carefully moved a hand so he could tap the tendril in return. “Like me…”  
  
**_Distress_**. Regis’ form shuddered and Dettlaff could feel his mind drifting away. That would not do. He held on tightly to the bond they shared and sent all his **_love_** through it. “You just need to remember how to change shapes. You’re a vampire, Regis. I’ve helped you remember this before, come on now…”  
  
With that, Dettlaff misted up into his reddish fog-shape. He was determined to get Regis to remember, his earlier experience in this was already guiding him in the right direction. What to do and how to do it.  
  
Nudging Regis’ near-fluid shape out of the basin and onto the desk was one of the easier steps, but his brother started panicking at the sudden changes. Before Regis could get too frenzied, Dettlaff settled his form over him, sending **_calm_** and **_safe_** over their bond. They couldn’t speak in these forms, but they could make their thoughts and intentions known well enough to each other.   
  
**_Calm._** Regis finally sent back after a while. **_Love. Safe._**  
  
That was good. **_Love. Safe._** Dettlaff confirmed, circling around him and gently pushed him off the desk, hurriedly swirling after him. Regis’ form seemed to _trickle_ down and for a moment his brother startled, but then he seemed to _remember_ and he stopped trickling and instead started twirling in the air.  
  
Good. They were vampires, the laws of this world’s nature did not apply to them. They could do what they wanted. He swirled around Regis in an attempt to guide him over to the bed. The older vampire allowed himself to be guided on top of the thick covers and then, as he’d done before, Dettlaff cajoled Regis to remember how to turn into his human shape. Trying to find the triggers that had earlier worked to get him to remember.  
  
Shifting back into his human shape himself, Dettlaff sat on the bed, patting the material next to him. “See? You’re like me, and it’s so much easier to feel in this form, wouldn’t you agree?” He touched his fingers to the inside of his wrist. “So much easier to reach out to each other and show affection. And warmth… everything is so much warmer when we’re in a physical shape.” He was well aware that Regis hated the cold with a passion and was ever seeking out warmth.  
  
**_Frustration._** The blue-grey fog next to him trembled and a moment later Regis appeared, curled up on his side, back in his human shape. The vampire was clutching his head, eyes squeezed closed.  
  
Dettlaff quickly reached out to him and drew his brother to his chest, shielding him from the light. **_Safe. Love._** “You did it, Regis. You remembered…”  
  
After a while Regis relaxed and dared to turn his head away from his chest; it seemed the light no longer hurt him. “Dettlaff? What are you doing here? The last thing I remember I-” His brother glanced back towards the basin on the desk and a blush appeared on his cheeks. **_Embarrassment._** Memories were clearly returning to his mind.  
  
Dettlaff held him closer and lightly rubbed his shoulder. **_Love_. **“You had Geralt and Yennefer worried there, dear friend… I’m glad they determined how to reverse your state and that I could help, but please brother… be more careful in the future. It’s becoming more and more apparent that even our kind is not impervious to this world’s magic.”  
  
Regis breathed in deeply once before disentangling himself from his hold. He jerkily rubbed his own arm, his body tense. **_Anxiety. Shame._** “I’ll be more careful, Dettlaff,” Regis promised softly. “I feel like a fool. Indeed, what if an artefact causes me to lose control and hurt others instead of reducing me to a molten puddle of sappy feelings?” The vampire shuddered.  
  
Dettlaff drew his brother back towards him, guiding Regis’ head to the crook of his neck. He nuzzled the top of Regis’ head and was content to remain this way for just a moment longer. “Geralt and Yennefer are waiting just outside, they’ll be glad to see you returned back to your old self.”  
  
“And I am glad as well for it, thank you, Dettlaff.” Regis looked up at him with imploring eyes, still a trace of embarrassment in them, as well as a bit of uncertainty. “Can we stay like this for just a moment longer though? Please?”  
  
Geralt and Yennefer were bound to have heard their conversation by now, but luckily the two were giving them the space they needed. Dettlaff met his gaze and tilted his chin up when the vampire tried to look away. “No need to worry, dear heart. They’re pack, they love you.”  
  
Regis closed his eyes. “I think Geralt’s had quite enough of my love these last few days. The clinginess…”  
  
Dettlaff frowned. “You mean you reaching out for reassurance when something of a mind-altering nature had affected you? Geralt did not seem put out by you when I saw him earlier. He was worried for you, uncertain how this would be resolved. In his eyes, you are family and you know what that means to him.”  
  
A slight smile appeared on Regis’ face and the vampire looked up at him with a hopeful gleam in his dark eyes. He did know.  
  
“That’s better,” Dettlaff smiled back at him, “just say when you’re ready, I’m content to sit with you for as long as you need.”  
  
Regis nodded against his chest and they sat quietly. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes when Regis heaved a breath and composed himself, seemingly reaching a decision as he forced himself to stand up. “I feel, dear Dettlaff, that I’m ready now to return to our friends. Will you stay around for a while? There’s been something I’ve been meaning to show you…” He held out his hand towards him.  
  
**_Love. Affection._** Dettlaff eagerly took hold of the hand, allowing himself to be pulled up. “I’d be happy to, dear friend.”  
  
**_Love._** There was a warm smile on Regis’ face as the vampire moved towards the door. The moment he opened it a slight blush appeared on his cheeks, but there was a fond gleam in his eyes. “Geralt! Yennefer!” He exclaimed, slipping through the door.  
  
Dettlaff could hear the joyful exclamations coming from their hosts and knew that Regis would be all right. He fully expected his brother to suffer some after effects still – Regis did tend to worry over past events – but vampires recovered quickly. Perhaps he should be more worried about Geralt, after all the man had had an intense experience as well. Dettlaff mulled it over for a bit before deciding that they would not part ways until this latest misadventure and its ramifications had been talked through.  
  
Now though, it was time he joined his blood-brother and their friends in their happy reunion.  
  
**The end**

**Author's Note:**

> Concerning Regis' feeling for Geralt, while I adore reading anything R/G, R/D, (G/D) and R/G/D, in my headcanon Regis considers Geralt both his dear friend and his pup. That's why Dettlaff was reacting the way he did... <3


End file.
